


Lets Get Kinky

by WhisperingMagpie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Blood As Lube, Blood Drinking, Breathplay, D/s, Daddy Kink, Drugging, Dubious Consent, Feminization, Finger Sucking, Human Castiel, M/M, Masochism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Safeword Use, Self-Harm, Sex dice, Shibari, Soulless Sam Winchester, Spanking, Teasing, dragon!sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie
Summary: My collection of Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017 writings.





	1. Why me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square filled: Finger Sucking
> 
> **Tags: Blood drinking**

Everything was dark. Sam couldn't see anything. Couldn't feel anything, except the cold ground beneath his knees. He breathed in deeply, let out a slow sigh, listening. All he could hear was his own breathing. 

He was in a dark, cool space, full of nothing.

Sam frowned, feeling a shiver run over his skin. Panic was starting to tease at him, just around the edges. He needed to focus. He needed to know what was going on. Where he was. 

Fingertips ghosted over his cheek. He gasped and squeezed his hands tightly, nails digging into his palms. The invisible hand grasped his jaw, and he couldn't help a soft whine. 

He waited, tense. 

“Oh, Sammy-boy. You don't need to be afraid. I'll take care of you.”

Somewhere deep down he thought he should be feeling sick, as the man ran a rough thumb gently along his cheek. It hesitated at the corner of his mouth, before slowly running over his lower lip. Then it lifted away.

“...why me?” Sam asked, almost a whisper.

The demon responded with only a low chuckle. He could hear the smile in its voice.

Two fingers lifted his chin, and he tilted his head up blindly, lips parting slightly as that same thumb began to run over them fondly. The digit pressed inside, over his tongue, and he could taste a sharp copper tang. His tongue flicked at the tip of the man's thumb experimentally, and he swallowed the taste, sighing.

His mouth pursed, and he suckled gently, tongue coaxing more of the rich metallic essence, surprising himself when he realized the sound he heard next was a low moan, coming from his own throat. He shuddered as the man's free hand ran through his hair.

“It's always been you, Sam. You're going to be so great. You're going to be King.”

The demon withdrew, and Sam raised a hand to reach for more. He stretched out in front of him, waving back and forth in the darkness.

Appearing in smoky haze, two swirling yellow eyes began to glow. 

Sam awoke in a sweat, breathing hard.


	2. Not Just A One Time Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's gotten himself into some trouble at school, and as a result, does a favor for the Headmaster to keep from getting into even more trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for my dear @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, who requested, as part of my 600 Follower Celebration, a Samifer school AU. Which became the dirty wonderful Sabrifer thing you are about to read. Congrats on graduating with honors, Luci <3 Enjoy this little gift!
> 
> This also qualifies as part of @spnkinkbingo  
> Square Filled: Office Sex
> 
> FYI, Sam's 18 in this. So its all gooood.
> 
> **Tags: Non-Con/Dub Con**

“Take your seats, please. Take your seats!” Miss Middleton chirped over the chatter of two dozen high school students. She frowned, turning to scribble on the whiteboard. “My name is Miss Middleton. I'll be your substitute today, as your regular history teacher is out sick today.” 

She was starting to wish she'd declined this substituting job. She usually took jobs at the elementary school, and she wasn't looking forward to the drama that came with teenagers. She didn't even look much older than them. She'd almost been mistaken for a student out in the hall, considering she'd arrived dressed like she came straight from Hot Topic. Actually, she did shop there a fair bit, but she didn't like to admit it was where she got most of her tshirts.

As the students began to settle, she turned to face them. From the doorway, a voice teased, “Let me guess, 'Turn to page three-hundred-ninety-four?'”

Celeste turned quickly to greet the man poking his head, staring suspiciously for a moment. “Can I help you?”

“Love your shirt,” The man gestured to her Harry Potter t-shirt, grinning as he sauntered over to show her his clipboard. 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” She gave him an awkward smile.

The man then pointed to the notice on his clipboard. “Says here I get to borrow Mister Sam Winchester. Headmaster wants to see him.” 

Celeste nodded quickly, looking down at the seating chart on her desk before turning to find the matching student. “Sam? Please gather your things and follow Mister...” She frowned at the man next to her.

“Call me Gabriel. Gabe.” He held out his other hand, and Celeste stared before gripping it in a firm handshake.

A tall student with floppy brown hair shuffled over to them, waiting.

Gabriel just winked at Miss Middleton and leaned in to whisper something in her ear, earning him a disgusted glare, before heading for the door. “Come along, Sammy. The Big Guy says its important.”

Sam just shifted his backpack straps on his shoulders, looking at the floor as he followed along behind. Gabriel must have noticed he looked nervous. “You look about to hurl, kid. Doing alright?”

Sam shrugged, fiddling with the ends of the straps. “Should I be worried?”

“Well. Depends on what you're in for. He didn't tell me, just said to fetch you. Best of luck.” Gabriel clapped him on the back, hand lingering as he opened the Headmaster's door. He peeked in, and grabbed a stack of papers from the Out tray. “I'll just get these copies for you, Sir.” And then he disappeared, leaving the nervous teenager standing in the doorway. 

“Enter,” The Headmaster stated calmly. “Shut the door behind you.”

Sam quickly fumbled with shutting the door, not looking up from the floor until he heard the Headmaster walking around the room, and he glanced up to see Mr. Alighieri shutting the blinds on each of the windows. 

“Take a seat, Sam.” The Headmaster smiled at him as he strode back behind his desk. 

Sam dropped his backpack, sliding into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, peering up at the blonde man through his bangs. “W-what did I do?”

Mr. Alighieri raised an eyebrow, chin resting atop folded hands. “You look nervous. What makes you think you've done something?”

Sam's eyes shifted from the Headmaster's desk where a nameplate stood, reading 'Headmaster Lucifer Alighieri', to strong forearms exposed from under sleeves of an expensive grey button up shirt rolled to the elbows. He took a deep breath, before looking up into crystal blue eyes behind narrow rectangular glasses. A shiver ran down his spine at the Headmaster's piercing stare.

“...nothing. I've just...never been called to your office before.”

Lucifer typed away on his computer, pausing to click a few times, then turning the screen towards Sam. “Well. Here's the truth. You are in a bit of trouble. You probably didn't know that there are cameras all over the school, did you?” He clicked play, and though the video was a little grainy, it was entirely obvious what was going on. 

Sam was on knees for his gym teacher, Balthazar Milton, the older man's fingers gripping his hair while Sam enthusiastically sucked his cock. Sam stared in horror. 

“Now, at first I thought this was a one time thing. Just a fling. Until I found this, too.”

The Headmaster clicked open another security feed of the same area, only this time Sam was tucking his head under the librarian's skirt, going to town on Miss Ruby. As the video ended, Lucifer sighed. “At first I was concerned they were preying on a poor young kid, but after I looked at your grades, I figured, maybe you were getting extra credit. I mean, no one likes gym class. And maybe you had a late library book with fees needing excusing. How else would a kid who started late in the semester catch up so quickly and have perfect grades?”

Sam was looking at the ground again, clenching and unclenching his fists shakily, unsure what to do with his hands, face flushed in embarrassment.

“Going to explain this for me, Sam, or do I need to give your parents a call? I really don't think Mister Winchester would appreciate--”

“N-no!” Sam sputtered. 

Mr Alighieri steepled his fingertips together with a grin.

“You were right,” Sam continued. “Extra credit. Library fines. Favors. All of it. Just don't call my dad.”

“Favors, hm?” Lucifer leaned forward, gazing at Sam over his glasses. “What kind of favor are you going to do for me, to keep your perfect student record clean?”

“Anything,” Sam said much too quickly. “I mean. You saw what I've been doing. Erase the tapes and...I'll show you what I can do. Up close.” Sam nibbled at his bottom lip, glancing up through his bangs in what he hoped was seductive and demure.

“Under my desk. Now. On your knees.” The Headmaster stated icily, in a tone which demanded obedience. Sam nearly fell out of his chair as he scrambled over behind the older man's desk on his hands and knees. He knew he'd have bruises from how quickly he'd hit the floor.

Lucifer pushed his chair back to make room, Sam settling on his knees between his spread legs. “Well? Get to it, boy.”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said softly, both hands working at undoing the Headmaster's belt and slacks, then freeing his cock from deep crimson silk boxers. Sam's mouth dropped open in shock, staring at the long, thick veiny cock before him. It made his mouth water, and it made his heart beat faster. Both arousing and terrifying in size. 'Scarousing? Is that a word?' He wondered to himself. Because it was definitely how he felt right now. 

Before Lucifer could reprimand him again, he leaned in, gripping the base with one hand while the other rested on the Headmaster's thigh, starting to lick and suckle at the shaft. He slowly worked his way up, taking the tip into his mouth, tongue swirling expertly before he began to slide down.

“Mm, that's good, boy. Keep that up.” Lucifer smiled down at him, one hand running through his hair, surprisingly gentle. As Sam took him deeper, Lucifer's grip on his hair tightened, pushing him further.

The office door opened suddenly, and Lucifer shoved him down all the way, holding firmly as he shuffled his chair forward enough that the intruder wouldn't be able to see his lap. Sam squirmed for a split second, going still when he heard a voice speak up. 

“Copies done. Coffee, Luce?” Gabriel held out a second mug, setting it on the desk where Lucifer pointed. “Anything else? Hey, where'd that kid go?” He glanced down at Sam's backpack next to the desk, then back up at Lucifer, one eyebrow raised. 

Sam shifted a bit, attempting to pull away so he could breathe, hitting his head on the bottom of the desk. He grunted, nails digging into Lucifer's thigh when the Headmaster held him down even more forcefully. 

Gabriel slowly stepped closer, the stack of copies left on a chair. Lucifer put on his best smile. “He's just...doing some favors for me. If you wouldn't mind, would you go check on him? Sent him to get some paperwork from the East wing.”

Gabriel shrugged, eying the desk where he swore he heard more shuffling from behind it, then turned away, heading for the door.

Sam, despite the fear of being discovered by the Headmaster's assistant, was quickly running out of oxygen, and now he had a painful bump on his already sore head from where the man was gripping his hair so tightly.

As the door clicked shut, Lucifer pushed his chair back and shoved Sam away. “You little brat, you fucking bit me!” he snarled, glaring down at Sam, who was heaving in deep breaths, looking pale and sweaty. 

“Well you nearly made me pass out, asshole!” Sam moved to crawl out from under the desk, as the door slammed open, Gabriel appearing in the doorway again. 

Gabriel seemed about to ask what was going on, when he saw the Headmaster fumbling with his slacks, dick half hanging out, and the young Winchester scrambling to his feet, panting. Gabriel frowned, and shut the office door behind him, locking it as he stared between the two of them. 

Lucifer finished tucking himself in and zipping up his slacks, muttering as he glanced up towards his assistant. “Like I said, doing me a favor. But not very well. Fetch me his records. Young Mister Winchester is expelled as of now for being caught doing 'favors' for his teachers in exchange for extra credit.”

“Nonono, you can't. I...can't be expelled,” Sam gaped at the Headmaster.

Lucifer just rolled his eyes, hand out for the file which Gabriel was digging for in the cabinet across the room. 

“Please, give me another chance. I won't bite this time, I swear,” Sam pleaded, starting to approach him, hands pressed together as if in prayer.

Lucifer took the file, staring Sam down for a good few seconds, before slapping the folder down on his desk. “Fine. One more chance, but now that we have a witness, you're going to have to do something to keep Gabriel quiet, too. Are you ready for that, Sam?”

Sam frowned, looking at Gabriel, and back to the Headmaster, uncertain but resigned. “...okay. What do you want me to do?”

Gabriel was looking the boy up and down, before his gaze met Lucifer's, and he stepped in close to whisper something. Lucifer nodded, and waved a hand towards the desk. 

“Lay across the desk, on your stomach. Head facing the door.” Sam did as he was told, glancing at the door nervously as Gabriel double-checked the lock. He now moved closer to Sam, stroking his hair and smiling down at him. Lucifer stood behind Sam. 

“You're going to use that mouth on my assistant, while I am going to fuck your ass. And you will not make a sound. Do I make myself clear?” Lucifer lay a hand on Sam's lower back, waiting for an answer.

“...yes, Sir. I'll behave.”

“Good.” Lucifer wasted no time in tugging Sam's jeans down, then digging in a drawer of his desk to dig out some lube. He slicked up his fingers, pressing one into Sam. “You should probably try taking a few deep breaths and relax yourself. Because if you scream, and someone hears you, you're going to be in even worse trouble. Besides, this will feel much better if you let it happen.”

Sam squirmed, resting his head down on the desk while he tried to breathe. Truth was, while he'd been getting up to all kinds of 'trouble' using his mouth, he hadn't had anyone take him from behind yet. He drew in shaky breaths as Lucifer stretched him open, tensing and looking up when Gabriel gripped his hair, pulling his head up.

“Open up, kid,” Gabriel smirked at him, nudging his cock against Sam's lips. 

“Hey, I'm not a --” Sam squeaked as Lucifer smacked his ass.

“Quiet.” Headmaster Alighieri growled, twisting his fingers, two currently deep inside him.

Meanwhile, Gabriel took advantage of Sam's open mouth, pushing himself slowly into the wet heat.

Sam grunted and opened wider, starting to suck as Gabriel began to thrust in and out. 

“I know. You're eighteen. Is why I don't really feel bad about this. But you sure don't look eighteen, kid. Hairless baby face with the perfect cocksucking lips. Been watching you, Sam.”

Sam would have protested, if his mouth wasn't full, but then Lucifer was easing another finger into him, pressing deeper and starting to rub over a little bundle of nerves that made him jerk in surprise. Gabriel, who was watching the Headmaster's fingers move, thrust in deep just as those wriggling fingers brushed over his prostate. Sam nearly choked, eyes watering, but at least he couldn't cry out.

Lucifer grinned, fingers spreading and sliding in and out slowly, rubbing at the same spot here and there until Sam went limp with pleasure, starting to pant around Gabriel's cock. 

“See? Not so bad once you relax, hm?”

Sam closed his eyes, not wanting to look up. He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment. He could barely keep from whimpering as the Headmaster's fingers withdrew. 

“Good boy. Keep quiet, Sam,” Lucifer crooned as he smeared the remaining lube on his cock, before wiping his fingers on a tissue. He held Sam's hip still with one hand, while he guided himself into the younger boy's hole, a low groan escaping at the tight heat enveloping him. 

Gabriel's thrusts had slowed, so as not to overwhelm him. He stroked Sam's hair, smiling and praising him for taking them both as Lucifer pressed all the way in. 

Sam was starting to shake. Despite how thoroughly the Headmaster had prepared him, it still hurt a little, but at the same time, he was so incredibly full that the pressure against his prostate was nearly overwhelming. As soon as Lucifer began to move, he whined.

Gabriel immediately picked up the pace, muffling his noises, taking care to thrust in deep when he noticed Lucifer moving faster and causing Sam to start whimpering again.

“Gag him,” Lucifer murmured low, and Gabriel thrust deep, holding his position while Lucifer fucked into him hard and fast. Sam could barely breathe, which was likely the point, because the he couldn't moan or cry out every time Lucifer rubbed over his prostate. Sam gripped the edge of the desk, doing his best to hold still and only hoping the Headmaster would finish before he got close to passing out again. 

After another handful of thrusts, Lucifer shoved in deep, hips shuddering. His grip on Sam's hip tightened, leaning forward as he finally settled. He nodded towards Gabriel, who started moving again, until he too had come, shooting down Sam's throat. 

Sam groaned when Gabriel pulled away, fighting the urge to spit or throw up, instead swallowing down the thick come. He thumped his forehead on the desk once in frustration. He'd actually been getting close, too, until he'd been nearly choked out again. 

Breathing hard, he squirmed around to try and peek back at the Headmaster, who seemed to be looking for something in one of the desk drawers. The man pulled out of him, quickly pushing something hard and cold inside him, then stepping back. “Wouldn't want my come leaking out on the floor or in your pants now, would we? You can take it out when you get home.” Oh. It was a plug. Glass, by the cool temperature. “Besides, I want you to remember this lesson. And next time you feel like you're in need of extra credit, I want you to come to me. Understand?”

Sam stiffly straightened up, pulling his jeans up as well. “Won't the teachers notice if you mess with my grades?”

Headmaster Alighieri chuckled low as he adjusted his own clothing. “Oh, I'll just tell them you've been doing a few favors for me. Helping me out in the office and tutoring younger students after school. Mark it down as extra credit assignments.”

Sam glanced back and sighed, before heading for the door. He picked up his backpack on the way, shifting uncomfortably at the feel of the plug rubbing at his oversensitive insides. 

“You will be back, won't you, Sam?” Lucifer called, settling behind his desk.

Gabriel waved at him from his small corner desk, busily organizing paperwork as if nothing had happened.

Sam paused, hand on the doorknob. His dick twitched in his jeans at the thought of being held tightly, and groped and fucked between them again in the future. He shivered, and hurried out the door. Yeah, he probably would be back.


	3. Here thar be dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sam sees something he likes, he takes it home with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my buddy, @seafoxfire / Dreamer of Improbable Dreams.
> 
> Square filled: Drugging
> 
> **Tags: Non-Con, Druggin**

Sam adjusted his robes around him, shifting his wings closer to his body under the loose fabric. In the setting sun, the extra bulk wouldn't be noticed anyway. To hide the ridged crimson horns atop his head, he'd cast an illusion spell. People wouldn't notice unless they were looking for them. He smiled, pulling a small vile from within his robe as he neared the house. From a distance, he could see Dean through a window, preparing dinner. 

He crept closer to the house, moving towards the water spout around the side of the property, where a bucket sat, catching the lazily dripping water. Sam dumped the contents of the shimmering vial into the bucket, watching as the hue of the potion vanished once it mixed with the water. The door rattled open, and Sam tucked himself around the corner of the house, listening. 

The squeak of the water pump echoed, and the sloshing of water. Sam took off into the woods to wait. 

The sun had set completely by the time Sam crept back to Dean's house. He checked the window, and found the man slumped over at the dinner table. Sam nudged the door open slowly, and smiled as he edged closer. Dean looked so soft and relaxed in sleep. 

He gathered Dean into his arms and backed away towards the door. Pausing, he drew in a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the room was filled with fire. Then he dashed down the path away from the blaze, form shifting to a great black and red dragon. He lifted into the air, his sleeping captive clutched to his chest. He'd been watching this man for a long time. He was looking forward to having him. 

\--

When Dean woke up, everything was hazy. His body felt tingly, but he was comfortable. As he shifted, he felt soft furs at his back, and when he turned his head, he saw that he was laying a big pile of animal pelts. And he was...rather....unclothed. Dean let out a rather unmanly squawk and pulled one of the furs over himself.

Across the vast space, a large stone cave, he discovered as he sat up to peer around, a creature stirred by the fire. A large reptilian head lifted, yellow eyes glinting amongst dark scales. Red and gold flecked wings stretched wide over the beast's sleek body as it got to its feet.

Dean's eyes widened, and he pulled the furs up to his chin. Maybe he could hide from this GODDAMN DRAGON if it didn't notice him. He'd heard about sightings of a dragon stealing livestock and occasionally people from the village, but he didn't think it was actually true.

Then, the dragon's shape began to melt and shrink, leaving a man standing there, plus jagged horns and elegant wings folding against his back. 

Without shame, the nude dragon-man stepped closer, staring down at him. He paused, pulling a flask from a bag, and held it out. When Dean didn't take it, the dragon simply tossed it to him, and he quickly brought up his hands to catch it. 

Frowning at the flask, he pulled off the lid and sniffed. It didn't smell like anything. Just...water. Truthfully, he was thirsty, but he was hesitant to take anything from this creature, who had quite possibly kidnapped him and dragged him away into the mountains. The dragon watched as he took a sip, firelight glinting in his eyes. His expression was unreadable, maybe curious. 

“Who are you?” Dean questioned, when he'd downed the water and set the flask aside. “And what do you want with....” Dean frowned, feeling his head start to spin. The tingling sensation that had been lingering grew, until he could barely feel his limbs, and he slid down on his back again, pillowed by the pile of furs. He blinked hazily, and tried to ask again, but all that came out was slurred syllables. 

His vision was a bit blurry, but he could make out the shape of the dragon coming closer and pulling the furs away from his body, uncovering him. Everything felt a bit numb, but there was no doubt about what the dragon's plans were as rough hands ran slowly over his skin. Dean was going to be the creature's dinner. 

He heard the man murmur something in his ear, and he could swear it wasn't even English. It sounded like hissing in another language. But he made out one word, something that sounded like a name. Samuel.

\- -

Sam grinned widely, tongue flicking out across his teeth when Dean started to go limp again. He wasn't sure Dean would take the drink, but the human seemed trusting. And by the time the water was gone, it was too late. He'd slipped a little something in it to numb Dean, make him pliable. Maybe a bit too much. Dean wasn't resisting him at all as he leaned in close, licking at the salty skin of the man's throat, hissing in delight. He ran his palms over Dean's chest and slowly down his sides, nudging his legs apart with his knee. 

Little breathy noises were coming from the man's lips, almost as if he were enjoying himself. He supposed, it was much easier to enjoy it when there was nothing he could do to stop it. Or maybe he was reading it wrong, and those pretty sounds were actually panicked.

Sam nipped and licked as he moved down, clawed fingers raking along inner thighs. He glanced up Dean's body, and growled happily. This man was just so damned pretty, that it was a wonder he'd been able to wait and hadn't just taken him right there in his home. He knew he had to have Dean, bring him home and keep him. He'd never seen such long eyelashes and plush lips on a human male, and the sleek muscle nearly had him pouncing once or twice when he soared past the village and caught sight of Dean tending to his garden shirtless in the summer sun. 

Pulling away, he reached into his bag for a small vial of amber liquid. It rolled lazily inside the glass as he gave it a good shake before pouring some out into his palm. He smiled at the slight tingling the second it touched his skin. It was his own personal blend of oils and herbs that made for a rather pleasurable feeling for both parties. He smoothed it over his cock, and lifted Dean's hips, pushing into him slowly.

Instantly, Dean's soft whimpering increased. He writhed drunkenly, and Sam leaned forward, catching Dean's wrists before he could hurt either of them. He pinned Dean's arms over his head and bucked his hips forward, frowning at the pained expression on the man's face. 

“Hush, my dear. It'll get better soon,” He said softly, shifting one hand to Dean's hip as he continued to move inside him. He knew the oils would soak in soon, and then he'd be in ecstasy. But Dean gave no impression of having heard or understood, his squirming starting to settle. 

Sam lifted a hand to stroke Dean's hair, running soothing fingertips along his cheek.  
“That's better.”

When it seemed Dean was quieting down, he curled forward, both hands gripping Dean's hips and biting down on his shoulder to further hold him still. Then, he thrust in and out quickly, low growls and moans filling the air, accompanied by the slapping of skin.

It didn't take long for him to fill Dean with his hot come, snarling as he bucked into him harder. When he glanced down Dean's body, he smiled at the sight of come splattered up his tanned stomach. In the end, all his playmates enjoyed it. Just took time. Dean lay limp, eyes unfocused and nearly closed. He didn't react when Sam pulled out and flopped down on the furs next to him, wings curling over them both. 

He really hoped that when Dean came to again, he'd be more willing and need less of the sleeping potion, because Sam was hoping to keep him for a long time.


	4. Marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes he just craves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: Samifer
> 
> Inspired by roleplays between @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell and I. Some of Lucifer's lines are influenced/borrowed from how she writes him. <3 She is so wonderful.  
> You should check out her hot writing and go commission her right now. ( Mrs_SimonTam_PHD here on AO3)
> 
> **Tags: Pain kink, masochism, breathplay, dom/sub**

“Master...” Sam said softly as he approached the armchair where Lucifer reclined, a book open in his lap. He paused in front of his Master, biting at his lower lip, eyebrows pulled together. His breathing was increased. 

The blond man glanced up over his glasses, and set his book aside, the thin frames following, folded carefully atop his marked book. He knew that look, the almost desperate need his Pet displayed when it had been a little while since they'd had an intense play session. He patted his thigh, lips upturned just slightly at the corners.

Sam crawled into Lucifer's lap, straddling his thighs, resting his hands on the older man's chest. “Need you...”

“What do you need?” Lucifer draped his hands loosely upon Sam's hips, eyes narrowing up at him. “Use your words.”

Sam's head tipped down, wavy hair falling forward, but Lucifer could still see how his face heated up in embarrassment, maybe a hint of frustration. After a few seconds of silence, Sam spoke up, voice rough with arousal. “Need you to hurt me. Please, Sir.”

The elder's smile widened until his teeth bared, but his eyes were soft, pleased. One hand caressed Sam's thigh, slowly down and then back up, moving between to gently squeeze his hard cock tenting his sleep pants. “How much?”

Sam's breathing shuddered, a whine escaping as Lucifer's hand moved away. He hesitated, jaw quivering. “...Pull my hair, bite me, scratch me, spank me, choke me...mark me up and remind me that I'm yours.”

Lucifer smirked, his hand sliding slowly up along Sam's side, palm running over his cheek and around the back of his neck. Sam smiled, sighing into the gentle touch, eyes narrowing. Then, Lucifer suddenly gripped a handful of his hair, holding tightly and pulling his head back. 

Sam keened high, body drooping so that Lucifer had to wrap an arm around his waist and hold him closer. His hand slid under Sam's longsleeve shirt, nails raking down his back, causing him to whimper and arch. “Better get these clothes off, then,” Lucifer growled out, releasing his hold.

Sam hurried to comply, stumbling to his feet to quickly shuck off his shirt and drop his sweats. He scrambled back onto his Master's lap, and was greeted with Lucifer squeezing his ass, before giving the left cheek a hard smack. Sam let out a shuddering moan, collapsing forward against his chest, arms flung around his neck. 

Lucifer chuckled and wrapped his other arm around Sam, hand running gently up and down his back over the tingling red claw marks. Then, he held tight as he shifted to smack the opposite cheek, earning another sharp moan, his Pet writhing against him. He could feel Sam's twitching cock rubbing against his stomach. “Don't rut like that, be a good boy.”

Sam pouted and whined, but slowly relaxed against him. Only then did he deliver another two quick smacks. His Pet whimpered and buried his face against Lucifer's neck.

“Color?” Lucifer questioned.  
“Green,” Sam answered in a rush of syllables, “More, need more please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, Sir,” Sam whined.

“Good boy,” Lucifer continued, hands squeezing and rubbing at his love's sore ass.

Sam groaned, starting to squirm again, nuzzling and nipping at Lucifer's neck. “Your good boy,” He said breathily.

“I said. Don't squirm.” Lucifer stated firmly as he laid a much harder smack to his boy's rear. Sam wailed as another three fell on precisely the same spot, until a bright red hand print rose in a welt. Sam melted against him, breathing hard. Lucifer sighed happily, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and whispered in his ear. “More?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam murmured when he could breathe deeply again.

Lucifer hmmed, letting Sam rest for another moment, before sliding a hand up into his hair again, massaging at his scalp. Sam's eyes drooped closed, though he started to whine, shifting in his Master's lap. Lucifer just chuckled as he leaned in and started to nibble along Sam's neck, causing him to gasp. “For a good boy, you sure are defiant.”

Sam pouted, but had no time to respond as Lucifer pulled his head back by his hair, biting down hard. Sam could only let out needy moans as his Master sucked a reddening mark on his throat, his free hand raking down his back harshly. Sam could no longer resist rocking against him, gasping when Lucifer shifted to bite a patch of skin on the opposite side, up near his jaw. And this time Lucifer didn't stop him.

“You're mine, boy,” Lucifer murmured between bites. “Mine to tease, and hurt, and love.” 

Sam whimpered, “Yours. To tease and hurt and love.”

Pulling away to inspect the bite marks, Lucifer grinned proudly. “And when people see these marks,” He ran his fingers over the scratches again teasingly, other hand releasing Sam's hair and moving to caress his throat, “They'll know you're owned. They'll know you're mine.”

Lucifer's fingers curled slowly around his Pet's neck, both thumbs running up his windpipe while fingertips stroked along the sides and back of his neck. Then he began to squeeze. 

Sam went limp, leaning into Lucifer's grip, little breathy gasps escaping before his air was cut off entirely. His eyelids fluttered in bliss, hips continuing to grind forward more frantically.

“Are you close, my dear?”

Sam nodded faintly, curling his hands into his Master's shirt, revelling in the hint of fear he got from letting Lucifer hold his life like this. 

“Then come,” Lucifer commanded.

Almost immediately, Sam shuddered and came hard, spurting onto their stomachs. Lucifer released his Pet's throat as he finished, allowing Sam to collapse against him, gasping in sharp breaths. 

Lucifer stroked his hair gently, waiting until Sam's breathing had started to ease. “Good?”

Sam sighed happily, a dopey smile on his tired face. “Yes, very good. Thank you, Sir.”

Lucifer smiled. “Good. Now, lets get some water in you, and then then I'll put some cream on these scratches.”

“And then cuddles?” Sam smiled up at him hopefully.

“Yes, lots of cuddles.” Lucifer nodded, squeezing him.


	5. Vertigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean go to a fetish event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square Filled: Spanking
> 
> Written for my buddy @seafoxfire.  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY  
> ENJOY THIS SMUT  
>  **Tags: Non-Con/Dub Con**

Sam kept putting a hand on his waist every time he started to wander off, and it was really starting to cramp his style. It wasn't his fault Dean kept getting distracted by all the scantily clad people around them, especially when they reached the end of each aisle, where the play area was. That area of the room made him nervous but intrigued, and he could swear he saw Sam grin as his eyes caught an interesting bondage display, before they walked down the next row of merchandise. The only time Sam strayed from him was to pause in front of a booth selling handmade rope specifically for bondage.

Dean sighed in relief and kept walking, glancing down at the gaudy fuschia band Sam had slipped onto his right wrist. It had the name of the event on it, but he would have rather picked a plainer color. Like the grey band Sam was wearing on his left. But whatever. He'd probably throw it away when they got home.

He didn't get far, warily watching a waxplay demo, before Sam had caught up with him, a shopping bag in one hand. Dean glanced at the bag and shrugged. He probably didn't want to know what was in it. Sam was way too into this kinky stuff.

Coming to this thing had been Sam's idea in the beginning. They'd been taking down a ghost haunting a college dorm, and on the way back to the car, Sam paused at a message board in the campus courtyard. He yanked an advertisement off the board, and the only reason Dean came along is because the poster promised pole dancers.

It was Sam who had gotten all dressed up in tight leather pants and boots with too many buckles and eyeliner. He tried to offer Dean a similar getup but Dean was just fine in his black jeans and tshirt, thank-you-very-much. If they didn't let him in for not looking the part, well, he'd go find a bar to hang out in for the night. Unfortunately, or fortunately, as Sam had said, they let him in. Though a lot of the people here were showing more skin than he'd seen in a while, the dress code seemed to include casual.

So far, Dean hadn't even seen the dance stage yet, with how often Sam kept stopping to look at various booths, they'd only made it halfway through the room. Most of the booths just made him uncomfortable, other than the one where Sam had caught him staring at some men's lingerie. Thankfully, Rhonda's satin panties were one memory he'd managed to keep from his brother, and he preferred to keep it that way.

When Sam paused again, nearly drooling over some expensive leather boots, Dean bolted. He pretended to be looking at something across the aisle, and then slipped between the booths, not looking back until he was a few rows over. Then he casually headed for the dance stages, following the music.

Truthfully, the girls weren't that great, so he ended up wandering around the edges of the hall, towards where the demos and the play spaces were. He stood at the edge of the crowd, scanning the couples and eventually wandered over towards a corner where a young man was bent over a spanking bench, a busty woman going to town on his bare ass with a wooden paddle.

Dean's eyes widened, flinching at the sound of the first few hits. At the same time, a shiver ran down his spine. Goddamnit, he was getting hard in his jeans, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. The bench was angled so that both the player's faces were turned towards the onlookers. The man cried out with each smack, face flushed. The woman glanced up between hits, pausing on Dean. She looked down towards his wristband, and gave him a knowing smile before moving on, her pace not stopping.

After the scene ended, the woman helped her partner down onto a blanket, offering him some water. When it seemed he was comfortable, she smiled and straightened up, wiping down the bench and paddle with some antiseptic wipes. Then she looked directly at Dean, approaching him.

“You want a turn?”

Dean stepped back, flustered and stuttering, “I, uh...I was just...”

The woman just smiled and held up both hands in an open gesture. “It's okay. No pressure. I saw your wristband and thought you might be interested, especially with how much you looked like you were enjoying watching.”

“He's with me,” A low, familiar voice sounded, and the woman backed away, going back to her resting partner.

A tight grip had encircled his wrist, and Dean jerked around to glare up at the person who had grabbed him, but the large hand didn't let go. Dean snarled, only to find Sam grinning down at him, the most seductive and commanding smirk he never hoped would ever be aimed in his direction. It made Dean weak in the knees.

Before he knew what was happening, Sam had turned him around and twisted his arm behind his back, walking him over to the spanking bench. Dean flailed with his good arm until Sam managed to shove him down and press his wrists into cuffs secured to a bar across the front.

He squirmed and bucked until Sam's warm bulk pressed to his back, leaning over him to whisper in his ear. “I saw you watching them. I know you want this. But I don't want you going to anyone else. I know you so much better. I want you to be mine, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to complain as Sam pulled away slightly, only to feel his hand squeezing his ass. Dean's eyes slipped shut, body tensing as he tried not to think about little brother's hand on his ass. It did not compute. He could feel the hard line of Sam's cock through those tight pants as he pressed close again, hands running up and down Dean's sides. That combined with Sam starting to nibble on his ear just about made him short-circuit. He had no idea what Sam was saying anymore, and he had entirely forgotten about the other people around them.

His eyes jerked open, an unmanly squeak escaping when Sam moved to bite at the back of his neck. He began to squirm again, pulling at the tight cuffs. “Sam!”

Sam, that bitch, just chuckled low in his ear. “Why, you don't want them all to see? I think they really want to see me turn your ass cherry red, hear you whimper for more.”

Dean glanced up at the crowd gathering around them, and felt his face flush. He twisted around, keeping his voice low as Sam groped him. “Why are you doing this? You're my brother.”

“Is that what you're so worried about? They don't know that. No one here knows we're related.”

Before Dean could complain any longer, Sam pulled away and Dean squirmed to try and see what he was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the wooden paddle being picked up from where it had been propped against the bench.

Sam spoke up above the chatter of the crowd. “You're mine, Dean. Always have been.”

Then a sharp thwack resounded, and Dean lurched forward as the sting of the paddle hitting his ass registered. Dean's mouth gaped open in shock. Even through a couple layers of clothing, it fucking hurt!

“Sam, what the--?!”

Another thwack, before Sam paused to rub his sore ass. “You know, this would feel so much nicer on bare skin. I think you'd really like it, Dean.”

“Don't you dare, Sam!” Dean yelled while Sam set down the paddle, reaching around to unbutton his jeans and tug them down along with his boxers.

He could hear a predatory growl come from Sam's direction, and it made Dean shrink down, curling over the bench.

“They might get to admire this perky ass, but they also need to know that I'm the only one who gets to touch.”

Sam straightened up, taking the paddle with him, leaving Dean to curse up a storm, thighs pressed together as if it would do anything to hide his pink ass exposed to the world.

Dean downright shrieked as the paddle struck bare skin, and then he went silent, the sharp pain making him more stunned than before. Holy fuck, it hurt. But in a different way. Clothing had muffled the pain, to more of a thwack, but this was a goddamn smack. A sharp sting. He lay there, panting for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds.

Then another two smacks hit in quick succession. Dean yelped as the pain rushed over him, went right down between his legs. A good few seconds before the paddle hit again. His face went impossibly redder when he realized he was starting to get hard again. He held onto the edge of the bench, head resting down on the padded ledge.

Another smack echoed, and he groaned, his own voice loud in his own ears. It seemed drown out the sounds of the other people around them, until he didn't notice them anymore.

Smack. “Eight. You look so beautiful like this, Dean.” Smack. “Nine. You're mine, Dean, all mine.” Smack. “Ten. Tell me who you belong to, or I'm going to give you another ten.”

Dean shifted when the paddling stopped, feeling his hard cock rub against the bottom of the bench. He blinked dazedly but didn't move. Sam leaned in closer, fingertips running over his tingling backside. “Dean?”

Dean buried his face down against the padding, grumbling when Sam tried to call his name again. He tipped his head to the side, lazily rutting against the bench. “Mm...fuck off, Sam.”

Sam's nails dug in, causing him to gasp. “What did you just say to me?”

Dean groaned sharply, writhing. “Fuck. Off.”

Sam sighed and straightened up, hefting the paddle. “Fine.”

Something in Dean dared hope that meant Sam would stop, but he was so very wrong. The paddle came down on his sore ass ten more times, in quick, even strokes. Sam didn't even pause to taunt him or say anything possessive.

All through the pain, Dean whimpered and cried out, his ass on fire and his cock leaking onto the floor between his knees. When the paddlings finally stopped, he lay limp, breathing hard. He wanted to fucking touch himself, but there was no way he was going to ask Sam to let him go. He'd had enough.

Sam was pressed close against, denim clad crotch rubbing against his sore ass.

“Who do you belong to, Dean?” Sam murmured in his ear.

Dean whined and rattled the cuffs. “Lemme alonnne...”

“Do you need another ten smacks, Dean?”

Dean tensed and shook his head, staying silent.

He could almost hear the smirk in Sam's voice. “I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you, if you play nice.” Sam ran a hand along his side, slowly creeping around his hip towards his aching cock. His fingertips brushed over the base. Dean moaned softly, wiggling his hips to try and get closer.

“No, Dean. You know what I want to hear. Say it.” Sam's fingers skittered away, rubbing at his hip.

Dean groaned pitifully. “...'m yours.”

“What was that?”

“I'm yours, Sam. All yours.”

Sam purred in delight, hand slowly easing closer. “And what do you want me to do?”

“Touch me. Fuckin' touch my cock, Sam. Need it. Want to come.” Dean sputtered out in a quick rush of words. Then he quickly buried his face against his arm.

Sam finally curled his big hand around Dean's cock, stroking him quickly. “Good boy. Come for me. And when we get home, I'm going to make you suck me off. Come down your throat and make sure you swallow it all.”

Dean shuddered, and came hard in less than a dozen strokes, moaning sharply. He bucked into Sam's hand, shaking as he settled against the bench.

When he came to, his head was spinning. He hadn't even realized that he'd passed out. He shivered in the cool night air, even though he was fully dressed. Glancing up, he saw Sam looking down at him, carrying him out to the car.

“What do grey wristbands mean?” He asked, as Sam set him down in the passenger seat. He winced and shifted to get some of the weight off his sore ass.

Sam grinned as he started the Impala. “Means I'm interested in tying people up.” He gestured to Dean's. “And yours means you like being spanked.”

 

_Lights go down, and all I know_  
_Is that you give me something_  
_I can feel your love teaching me how_  
_Your love is teaching me_  
_How to kneel_


	6. Spicy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds a little something to spice up their sex life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for @spnkinkbingo - Square: Teasing  
> (and @rainsoakedsam, who requested Sex Dice as part of my 600 Follower Giveaway.)

Dean strolled in the door carrying a couple of paper bags, and set them both down on the table next to Sam. He had that mischievous grin that usually led to trouble. Sam glanced up from his laptop and leaned forward to peek into the bags. One held a case of beer and junk food. The smaller bag, Dean snatched up before Sam's nosey eyes could see.

“Take a break from the nerd research, Sammy. Come see what I found. Figured it might help spice things up.”

Sam's eyes narrowed, suspicious. He was already cracking open a beer and took a long sip, sighing as the cool drink settled in his belly. He followed Dean over to where he'd perched on the end of the bed, and handed over a second beer. He hadn't realize their lives needed spicing up. They had enough to deal with.

Dean looked like a proud little kid, wanting to show off what he'd found in the backyard. He set his beer aside while he dug into the paper bag. “Stopped by a little sex shop on the way home. Don't have a case right now, might as well enjoy the down time.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the bottle that was held up, and took it to read the tiny glittery text. 

“Cinnamon lube. Says it makes you all warm and tingly,” Dean supplied.

Sam nodded with a small smile. It did sound...interesting. “Okay, you have my interest.”

Dean chuckled, pulling one more thing out of the bag. At first glance, it just looked like an ordinary set of three dice. He ripped open the packaging immediately and dropped it on the floor, dumping the dice in his palm. “One has actions, the second has body parts and the third has times.”

Sam was busy reading over the discarded packaging.

“So, wanna play?” Dean interrupted.

Sam glanced up, and took another long pull of his beer. He could start to feel it warming his body, considering he hadn't eaten much today, too engrossed in research.

“Maybe it'll wear me out enough to get some sleep.” He sighed, and started unbuttoning his overshirt. 

Dean frowned and put a hand on his arm, stopping him as he was pulling one sleeve off. “Hey. Let me.” Then he took over, palms running up over his brother's chest and down his arms while he pushed the flannel off, then slipping under his tshirt to start removing the second layer. 

Sam laid back on the bed as Dean's hands on his now bare chest pressed him down, watching him with an almost critical curiosity.

“Relax, Sammy,” Dean reassured him, moving down to tug his jeans off, fingertips trailing down slowly afterwards. He straightened up, watching Sam take a few deep breaths and slowly start to relax. He stripped out of his own clothes until they were both down to their boxers. Sam leaned up to grab his beer, downing the rest of it before settling back, hands digging into the bedsheets.

Dean rolled the dice around in his palm, grinning down at Sam. “I'll go first, and then you can roll.” He let the dice clatter onto the side table, and chuckled softly as they landed on KISS – GROIN – 60 SECONDS. “Going straight to the good stuff.”

Sam tried to lean over and see, but Dean covered the dice while setting a timer on his phone. Then Dean was pressing a hand to his stomach, leaning over him and starting to kiss and mouth along his cock through his boxers. Sam drew in a startled gasp, going from flaccid to diamond hard in seconds. He squirmed, reaching to grip at Dean's hair. Dean slowly tugged the silk boxers down, listening as Sam moaned openly when he placed a few kisses along hard flesh, lips parting to suckle occasionally.

Dean pulled away when the timer beeped, watching Sam lay there, panting. “Good?” When Sam nodded faintly, he flopped down on the bed, stretching out. “Your turn, Sammy.” 

Sam let out a whoosh of breath, turning onto his side to quickly grab the dice. When they settled, he frowned and glanced at Dean. “These are silly. Smack + Neck? That doesn't make any sense.”

Dean shrugged, waving a hand aimlessly. “So re-roll the second one til you get something good for smacking.”

The second try, Sam raised an eyebrow and held up the dice to show SMACK – FACE - 10 SECONDS. 

Dean's eyes widened, unsure for a moment. Then he nodded, face flushing a bit. “Do it.”

Sam grinned and crawled up over Dean. “This got something to do with you wanting to be slapped around by a girl in a Zorro mask?”

Dean looked away, face even brighter pink. “S-shut up. I don't want that anymore. I want you.”

“In a Zorro mask?” Sam teased.

Dean glared up at him. Sam just shook his head and lifted a hand, watching his brother hesitantly. “I don't want to hurt you too much.”

“Just fucking do it, Sam,” Dean growled out. “Before I change my-”

A resounding slap echoed, and it took a second for Dean to feel the sharp pain, a shiver running down his body straight to his dick. He blinked up at Sam, who was glancing at the timer quickly before he brought his hand across Dean's other cheek. He was smirking devilishly.

Dean touched his face gingerly with a dazed expression. Red patches appeared where Sam's fingers had landed. He squinted up at Sam, where his brother had climbed off him and looked to be attempting to say something, concerned. His fuzzy voice cleared as the high from the sharp pain started to come down. 

“Dean? Dean?”

“Mm, what?”

“You okay? You looked out of it.”

“I'm good,” Dean mumbled with a dopey smile. “Just give me a minute.” He wriggled out of his tented boxers, pushing himself up to grab his forgotten beer. After a few more sips, he snatched up the dice and rolled them out onto the table. This time he didn't seem to notice or mind Sam watching as they landed on LICK – CHEST – 30 SECONDS.

Dean's green eyes almost seemed to glitter as they swept over his brother's toned chest, tongue caught between teeth. Then he was pushing Sam down onto his back again while he leaned in, mouth quickly latching onto one nipple to bite and suck hard. Sam nearly squeaked, a high pitched moan shuddering out as Dean moved to flick his tongue the other before laving over the tanned skin around and between. Sam squirmed and arched when his brother's scruffy cheek nuzzled over one nipple. 

Dean was starting to move down Sam's stomach towards his aching cock again, reaching for the cinnamon lube by the time Sam noticed that it had surely been longer than thirty seconds and he hadn't heard a timer of any kind. 

His attempt to ask was short circuited as his brother's strong fingers wrapped around his cock, and shortly after, he felt a warm tingling sensation. He moaned deeply, sharp inhales causing his chest to heave. A similar warmth began to spread as Dean eased two slippery fingers into him. 

“Mmmff, just fuck me, Dean...” he murmured, hips lifting.

Dean chuckled softly. “As you wish, Sammy.”

Maybe they did need to spice things up once in a while.


	7. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean offered alcohol, which drowned out the noise, but didn't help in the long run. Sam offered a natural alternative. It was why Cas liked him. He always looked for a less alcohol-fueled solution to their problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square: Free Space  
> For @samanddeaninpanties, who requested Sastiel suspension bondage.
> 
> For shits and giggles, my thought process when I was writing this:
> 
> Requester: Kinky suspension bondage at a play party  
> Me: Relaxing traditional pressure point shibari to cheer up human Cas  
> Me to Me: Nope Cas gonna safeword out Cas doesn't like this too bad you can't stop me noowww that I put this idea in your head.
> 
> I'm so sorry that it didn't go at all in the direction of the requested prompt. Sometimes my brain just runs away in a completely different direction and I gotta go with it. Enjoy this angsty fluffy safewording cute shit.
> 
> **Tags: Suspension Bondage, Shibari, Human Castiel, Safewording**

Sam smiled as he listened to his partner's even breathing, glancing up at Castiel from where he'd knelt to uncoil his ropes. The angel wore only plain black briefs. Simple and comfortable, distracting as little as possible. Castiel was shifting from foot to foot while stretching to prepare his body for whatever position Sam bound him in.

Since Castiel had lost his grace, he'd been increasingly tense and stressed out, worrying about what he could do to contribute to the hunts and research. He couldn't heal them. He couldn't zap them anywhere. He hated feeling useless, and now he had to deal with human anxiety and food and brushing his teeth and using the toilet. He had knots in his back, and his head ached. 

Dean had offered alcohol, which drowned out the noise, but didn't help in the long run. After a while of that, Sam said he had something else that would help ground him, almost like a meditation but more intense. He told Castiel to meet him in one of the empty rooms in the basement. When he walked inside, he saw a large steel frame overhead, and Sam waiting with a pile of rope. 

Castiel froze up when Sam advanced on him, but the soft easy smile, and a promise that he wouldn't do anything to hurt him, that he'd stop if Cas didn't like it, made him slowly relax.

Castiel drew in a slow deep breath, hating how half the time he had to remember to do so, but also enjoying how it made his muscles start to relax. He bent forward and back, side to side, stretching first his arms and his legs, and every muscle he could think of, while Sam undid the bundles of rope. 

“I'm ready,” he announced, as he turned to Sam, reminding himself to breathe deeply to keep his apprehension at bay. There was nothing to be scared of. Sam had explained everything to him when he arrived.

_“What I'm going to do with this rope, is called shibari, the Japanese art of tying someone up with natural fiber rope. Before it became a sexual practice, it was used to help people. The ropes are traditionally tied at pressure points, but also in an aesthetically pleasing manner, and some people find the tight pressure and power exchange relaxing. Might help you ease some of that tension.”_

_Castiel could feel himself relax already, just thinking about it. Of course Sam would come up with a natural alternative. It was why Cas liked him. He seemed to exude logic and calm, always looking for a less alcohol-fueled solution to their problems._

“If you don't like it, I'll cut the ropes off immediately. Promise you'll tell me if you want out?” Sam rested his hands on Castiel's shoulders, gaze direct and firm. 

Castiel nodded. “I will. I promise.”

“I'm going to start with a basic chest harness to support your weight, so I can lift you up. Arms behind your back.”

Sam guided his wrists so that his forearms were parallel, and began wrapping the end of the folded rope around them, tying a firm knot. Then he looped the rope around Castiel's chest, tucking the end under the first knot. Castiel closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the hemp ropes rubbing together as they passed eachother. He could feel the fibers brushing over his skin and digging in as Sam pulled the ropes tight. 

As the ropes encased his chest and bound his biceps to his chest, he started to tense up again, panic trying to ease its way in. Sam must have noticed his change in expression, because he paused, tucking the rope end in and coming around in front of him. Strong hands caressed his face, cupping his chin.

“Cas, look at me. Do you want me to stop?”

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light.

“Breathe, Cas. Are you okay?”

Castiel slowly breathed, trying his best to ignore the tightening of the ropes with each inhale. He looked up at Sam, who regarded him with concern, hands gently smoothing over his face and neck, down to his shoulders. After a moment, he gave a small smile. “I...started to panic, but I'm okay now. Continue.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, running his hands along Castiel's arms as he circled around behind him again.

As soon as the ropes started to tighten again, Castiel jerked, eyes flying open. “Stop.”

“Hang on, Cas, I'll cut you out,” Sam assured him as he retrieved a set of medical shears, cutting methodically and quickly through the ropes before guiding Castiel carefully down to the floor. He cracked open a water bottle he'd set a few feet away. 

Castiel clung to him, fists buried in his plaid overshirt. “I ruined your ropes,” he murmured, face buried against Sam's chest.

Sam wrapped his arms loosely around Castiel, one hand rubbing at his back while the other cradled his head. “No, it's fine. Don't worry about the ropes, Cas. What you need to think about right now is you. It's important that you told me to stop. Your emotional state is much more important than some rope. We'll find something else to help you. Okay?”

Castiel slowly lifted his head, and Sam offered him him the water, which he sipped until he'd started to calm down. “Okay.”


	8. Hang On Tight, Baby Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were really looking forward to a week or two to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Square: Begging  
> For @breathlessammy, who asked for Feminization/Daddy kink as part of my 600 Follower Giveaway.
> 
> **Tags: Feminization, Daddy Kink, Underage. Sam's like. 15-16. Ish.**

Sam sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror, leaning forward to apply some shimmery pink lipgloss. He tried out a cute pout, and sighed again in frustration, inspecting the rest of his makeup. More soft glitter was dusted over his face, and crisp eyeliner to finish it off. He'd tried to tame his wavy, unruly hair, but there wasn't much he could do for it besides combing it behind his ears. But it was what was below the waist really had him blushing. He turned around to check all angles, stretching up on his tiptoes. 

He was scared to leave the bathroom like this. He was even embarrassed to let Dean see, but this was a special occasion. He had wanted to do something special for Dean, when he heard they'd get some time alone. 

Lately, he'd been starting to worry about the hair growing in on his legs and face. Dean only liked pretty girls, and Sam. If Sam wasn't pretty, maybe Dean wouldn't like him anymore. So, after shaving every hair he could find on his body, he pulled on some white lacy stockings and matching ruffled panties. The ruffles hid the shape of his dick. They also hid the shape of the plug in his ass, keeping him wet and stretched for tonight.

Dean would be home any minute now. He'd texted to say he was on the way back with beer and pizza to celebrate getting to stay home while John was on a hunt across the country, following some omens related to old Yellow Eyes. Wouldn't be back for a few weeks, he'd said.

Sam jumped when he heard the motel door open and shut.

“Sam?” Dean called out, and Sam could hear the sounds of food landing on the table, boots being kicked off. 

Sam waited a few seconds, listening to make sure Dean hadn't brought anyone else with him. He heard the rattle of Dean's keys, his jacket rustling, but no other voices. Sam slowly opened the bathroom door, biting at his lower lip as he stepped out.

“You were talking about celebrating having a couple weeks to ourselves...” Sam started.

The beer bottle Dean was holding slid out of his hand and crashed to the ground, staring with his mouth gaped open. For a second or two, neither of them moved. Then they both lurched forward to deal with the broken glass. Only, Dean with his longer legs moved faster, and instead, he stepped carefully over the glass and scooped Sam up into his arms. 

“Leave it. I'll clean it up later.”

Sam was tossed onto the bed, and while he bounced once or twice, arms and legs spread every direction, Dean was perched on the edge, peeling off his beer-soaked socks. Then he crawled up over Sam, gaze predatory, knees bracketing his narrow hips and hands next to his shoulders. His eyes roamed over his younger brother's skinny, hairless body, seemingly unsure where to start, as if Sam was the most delicious feast he'd ever laid eyes on.

“Sammy...” Dean breathed out at last.

Sam could feel his face flush hot and pink at the low, rough tone in Dean's voice. “Do you like it?”

Dean downright growled, licking his lips. “Damn right I like it. So fucking pretty, all dressed up for me.”

Sam shuddered, knees pressing together, his response softer and hesitant. He was just glad his voice hadn't entirely cracked and deepened yet. “Prettier than the other girls you used to kiss?”

Dean grinned, finally reaching out to touch, his rough palms flat on Sam's chest as he ran them down his sides and squeezed his slender hips gently, then back up. One hand trailed up to caress Sam's cheek. “Baby girl, you're the prettiest I've ever seen. You have no idea all the dirty things I want to do to you.”

Before Sam could ask, Dean's mouth was pressed to his, devouring him in a hungry kiss. Sam moaned into the kiss, thighs parting as his brother's hands slid down to squeeze his ass and pull him closer until he could feel Dean's hard cock through his jeans. Dean's tongue invaded his mouth like he was starving, biting the strawberry gloss from his lips. His hips ground forward harshly, pinning Sam to the bed. 

Sam whimpered and gasped, unable to do anything but grasp at his big brother's shoulders. When Dean pulled away to unzip and shove his jeans off, Sam could barely breathe with the arousal coursing through his body. “Please....Please, Daddy..”

It slipped out of his mouth before he was aware of what he was saying, and when he realized, his face instantly went beet red, hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

Dean was smirking down at him, obviously having heard it. “It's okay, Sammy. Even God knows I'm more of a father to you than ours ever was. If you want to call me that, do it.”

Sam shook his head quickly, flustered as he watched Dean strip off his boxers, one hand lazily stroking his cock.

“You want this, Baby Girl?” Dean asked as he knelt on the bed, shifting closer.

Sam slowly nodded, letting his arms drop to the sheets while he squirmed in anticipation. 

“Then you gotta say so, sweetheart. Ask for it.” 

Sam's eyes widened, biting at his lip for a moment as he gathered up the courage. 

“P-please...want your cock, Daddy,” He stammered. 

“What do you want me to do with it, hm?”

“Fuck me, Daddy.” Sam looked away in embarrassment. 

Dean nodded once, free hand sliding between Sam's legs and grazing over his cock. His eyes lit up as he felt the shape of the plug further back, and he pulled the panties aside, chuckling softly. He tugged the pretty pink rose-shaped plug out slowly and set it aside before starting to push two fingers into him easily. 

“So wet for Daddy's cock. Bet I could just slide right into you.”

Sam nodded quickly, little broken moans escaping as he rocked himself down on Dean's fingers.

“So greedy, too,” Dean teased, pulling most of the way out. “How much do you want it?”

Sam whimpered, head thrown back. “Please, Daddy. Need it so badly. I've been waiting for you all day. Gonna come as soon as you're inside me.” He cried out as Dean's fingers shoved back in deep, rubbing at his prostate, “Please!”

Dean pulled his fingers out, and immediately eased his cock inside, groaning at the tight warmth. Sam flung his arms around his brother's neck as soon as Dean's hips were flush with his ass, knees pressed up against his chest.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Love hearing you beg,” Dean growled out, not waiting to start rocking in and out, delighting in how his quick thrusts made Sam squeal. “Hang on tight, Baby Girl. Gonna take care of you.

He smirked as Sam clung to him, and it wasn't long at all before he felt Sam shuddering and clenching around him, surely screaming loud enough that the other rooms heard them. “Daddy!”

Sam whimpered, over-stimulated and sensitive as Dean fucked him harder and faster, chasing his orgasm until he came hard with a low moan. Sam squirmed when Dean pulled out and flopped next to him, arms wrapping around him. Sam turned on his side, smiling. He could feel Dean's heart jack-hammering in his chest with how close they were pressed together. 

“Gonna have such a mess in those pretty panties,” Dean murmured in his ear, pressing kisses along the back of his neck. 

“Your fault,” Sam whispered back, shifting as he felt sticky come leaking out of him. He wanted to get the panties off and shower, but he could wait a little longer, at least until he could feel his legs.

“Sure is.” Dean chuckled, grinning proudly as one hand ran along the top edge of the panties, fingertips tucking inside to run through his brother's come.


	9. well my heart is gold and my hands are cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam can't feel anything, and he doesn't know if he should care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavily influenced by 'Gasoline' by Halsey.
> 
> **Tags: Soulless Sam, Self Harm, Drinking, Murder, Blood as lube**

Most days now he's just going through the motions. Dean tells him where the hunt is. They climb into the car and drive. They check into a motel late at night covered in blood and grime from the hunt. Sam barely registers what they killed, just that its dead. He showers, and crawls into bed, skin tingling from the hot water. He'd turned it up higher than necessary, just to see what it felt like. To feel the pain.

He lays in bed staring at the ceiling. 

There's something wrong with him. He knows it. But he doesn't know how to fix it, or if he even wants to. He's so much more efficient now. He means well, but when he's slicing through a monster or demon without so much as a second thought to who they might have been before, he starts to understand why people stare at him like he's dangerous. Stumbling back like he's got a disease. 

He buys expensive booze because he's bored and drinks half the bottle in one sitting, but it doesn't do shit. He still feels numb, and he still doesn't sleep, so he just pitches the bottle in the sink. Dean jolts awake in the other bed, looking for the source of the crashing glass. He looks towards Sam, who is sitting there, staring at the mess of liquor and sharp fragments with not a single emotion. Dean sighs and lays back down, turning on his side, facing away. Sam knows he didn't go back to sleep, because he looks like crap in the morning.

He doesn't know how he's still alive with how little he eats and sleeps. Something about not having a soul will do that. He walks and talks and kills and fucks, but he doesn't feel a goddamn thing. He doesn't feel human. He's just running on steam like a machine.

Sometimes on those nights when he can't find anything online to entertain himself, he goes out and walks for hours. It helps to get rid of the anxious energy bubbling beneath the surface telling him that he needs to do something to fix himself before he ends up doing something that Dean will tell him he should regret.

Some drunk college guy stumbles into him, catches him off guard, and he snaps. Before the guy can even mumble an apology, Sam puts a knife through him. The guy gurgles and slumps against him, blood dripping from his mouth. Hot blood oozes down Sam's arm, and he pushes the guy off, looking down at the steaming crimson on his hands for a long moment. A shiver runs through him, and a cold smile twitches at one corner of his mouth.

He reaches down and yanks the knife out of the guy's gut, other hand grabbing the collar of a shirt soaked with blood and dragging him into the alley. Once in a corner nearly dark, Sam crouches down and slams the blade into the guy's chest, hitting his heart cleanly between his ribs. There's still enough blood in him that it spurts up and splatters on his face. 

He licks a smear of blood off his lips. Sam shudders, distantly aware that he's fucking hard in his jeans. He unzips himself one-handed, reaching into his boxers to squeeze his dick with a hand slick with blood.

“Fuck...” he mumbles, panting.

His other hand pulls the knife out of the dead guy's chest and drags it downwards, more blood seeping to the surface. The hand on his cock slides slowly up and down, and he feels detached. He knows he's moving his own hands, but he's too high on watching every drop of blood slide down the guy's side, shirt pulled up to see. It makes him jittery. 

It makes him feel alive.

His balls emptying onto the cooling corpse jolts him back into the moment, and he wipes his hands on his jeans before tucking himself back in and zipping up.

Before he straightens up, he digs out the guy's wallet and empties it of cash and credit cards. Then he nudges the guy behind a dumpster and walks away.

When he eases the motel door open, Dean is sleeping like a rock. He can tell by the deep, whooshing breaths coming from the blankets in the dark.

Sam scrubs the blood off his skin in the shower, and stuffs his soiled clothes into a bag to wash later with their laundry. His knife is cleaned, and set on the nightstand by his bed. He lays on top of the quilt, eyes closed. His mind is at peace, just this once.

_You'll never wake up, this is not a dream._


End file.
